


Better to have loved....

by Lascia



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Forgive me Bofur for I have sinned, I Tried, I am an unreliable updater, Love, M/M, Requited Love, Romance, Stupid old love, Sweet sweet feels, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-07-08
Packaged: 2017-12-18 03:16:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lascia/pseuds/Lascia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ice rinks are not safe places to take a date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Thorin

He wondered what it felt like, this requited love business.

Sitting in the stands at the ice-skating rink, boots strapped on but as yet untested, he watched the couple smile together. The taller one was dark, with a mess of hair peeking out from under his dark plaid trapper’s hat. The shorter was fair, his hair curling over the tops of his ears. Around his neck was wrapped a thick blue scarf that looked quite familiar to the observer. His lips were pink in the cold and his hands were covered in ridiculous gloves. Together they looked quite the pair. The taller one grinned as the other moved testily on the ice. With lips tight and a slip of pink tongue peeking out, he shuffled along towards his partner who moved with much more confidence. The taller one spoke, holding out his hands before bending over in laughter as the shorter man windmilled his arms for a moment before falling comically on his behind. Though he looked to be grumbling as he was helped to his feet, a smile spread across his face and he dusted his bottom off in the safety of his partner’s embrace. Thorin couldn’t take his eyes off of the fair man.

Moments later, two boys whizzed past hollering.

“Uncle Thorin! We’re racing! Look!”

“Fili’s gonna to get creeeeeeeeeeamed!”

As soon as they were in his sight they were gone, gliding and pushing over the ice.

His nephews were the sole reason that Thorin was even at the sodding ice rink. He hadn’t skated since he was young, had never been much good at it. But his sister had called and begged reprieve from her much loved sons for a week so that she may try to complete her final thesis before she and her supervisor went completely mad, and Thorin had gruffly agreed.

The boys arrived on his door step with chocolately grins and far too much baggage for a week’s stay.

His sister apologised, claimed she had forgotten to pack the Wet Ones and sent her boys straight to the bathroom to wash up. With a kiss to each cheek and a long hug for her brother, she hopped back into her car and drove off with a grin and a toot-toot.

An hour later, Thorin was packing the boys into his own car and _away_ from his house to the safety of the ice-skating rink.

“Uncle Thooooooooriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin!”

Fili whizzed by, followed by Kili who was shouting what sounded to be mild obscenities at his brother.

“You’re a stinkin’, cheatin’ turd Fi!”

Thorin sighed and looked at his boots. He knew he should get out onto the ice before the boys returned to harass him – that, or beat each other up. He just wasn’t sure that he had it in him to slide about without a care in the world.

He looked back at the couple on the ice and blinked when he realised that the shorter one was staring back at him. Not smiling nor blinking, just staring. Thorin continued to stare, feeling a warmth rise in his face. Neither broke their gaze until Fili slammed against the wall of the rink, shouting “Come on Uncle Thorin, what are you waiting for?”

He grunted something at his nephew and turned back to the couple on the ice, but they were talking again. Thorin sighed and stood. “Alright then, you cheeky sods. Time to get schooled by a pro.”


	2. Bilbo

Bilbo agreed to a date with Bofur without giving it much thought. Really, there wasn’t much to think about. Simply put, Bofur was a lovely man. He was kind, smiled a lot, spoke honestly yet still liked to tease, cared deeply for his family... Bilbo couldn’t think of a single reason to decline his invitation of a date. So he didn’t. He accepted and blushed a little and felt a tiny flurry of butterflies somewhere within.

He was fancied. Someone fancied him. Someone as kind and lovely as Bofur.

Bofur taught carpentry at the local college and spent a couple of evenings a week helping with woodcraft projects at the local ‘men’s shed’. The idea behind the shed was to give local men, a place to come and work with their hands. It also gave them a chance to have a hot cuppa and a bit of a chat with each other or with a counsellor, such as Bilbo. He had been the one to initiate the project, pushing the idea through the local council and getting a few local charities onboard. Though it had taken a couple of months, the ‘men’s shed’ had succeeded and was often a hub of activity and chatter.

Bofur had arrived one afternoon, his trapper hat in his hands, to volunteer his services.

“I’m good with my hands, y’know. Just don’t get much of a chance to use them now I’m teaching at the college. Do more talking than building. Thought it would be good to come down and make myself useful, if you’ll have me.”

Bilbo had happily agreed, offering “the more, the merrier” with a smile. He wondered for a brief moment if Bofur was one of the lonely sort that the shed attracted, but he soon pushed it out of his head. Bofur spoke endlessly of his family, of his adventures. He couldn’t be lonely.

It hadn’t taken long for Bilbo to consider him the best sort of man.

It had been a warm evening when Bofur had asked him for a date. Bilbo had just finished sweeping a neat pile of wood shavings when Bofur returned from locking away the power tools. He had been about to ask Bofur to reach for the dustpan when he sneezed.

“Bless you! Gets in the nose a bit, doesn’t it. Here you are – she’s clean, mind.”

Bilbo sniffed, accepting Bofur’s handkerchief with a nod. “It’s my fault, really. I’m quite the fervent sweeper. Can’t say why, just really get into it.”

Bofur laughed. “Aye, you’re a passionate lad, aren’t you? It’s what I like about you.”

Bilbo stilled and looked up. Bofur smiled at him. “ _One_ of the things I like about you.”

There had been blushing, and a little bit of clumsy phrasing, but it all ended agreeably with Bilbo quickly accepting to go on a date with Bofur.

Their first date had been simply lovely. Bofur had asked Bilbo to meet him at the Botanic Gardens. Together they strolled through the gardens, stopping often as Bilbo lost himself in a flower bed arrangement. They stopped for Devonshire tea by a lake; white swans drifted by on the still water. It was a perfect afternoon and Bofur had been a perfect gentleman.

Afterwards, Bilbo thanked his stars that he had met such a nice man. He had agreed to a second date, ice-skating this time, and was looking forward to it. He hadn’t been since he was a child.

Yes, thought Bilbo. Such a nice man.

At the rink, Bofur had helped Bilbo strap his boots as he reassured him. “It will all come back to you when you step on the ice, don’t you worry ‘bout that. It’s like riding a bike.”

Bilbo didn’t have the heart to tell Bofur he had never learned to ride a bike, so he just smiled and nodded. “Of course. I’ll be fine.”

He hadn’t been fine. He’d been simply terrible. He shuffled over the ice with his arms swinging and, despite Bofur’s guidance, soon found himself on his rear. It stung a bit and he had begun to grumble but the sight of Bofur laughing with his silly trapper’s hat shaking on his head had forced a smile to Bilbo’s face.

“Come here then, you goose. I’ll hold you whilst you get your feet.”

Bofur had wrapped a warm arm around Bilbo’s shoulders that felt perfectly friendly. Bilbo swatted at his own backside, wondering if he had been left with a wet mark that he couldn’t feel through his gloves. He sighed.

“Shall we try again, then? You can hold onto my arm this time, if you like.”

Bilbo nodded and accepted the proffered arm. Together they slowly moved across the ice. The rink was mostly empty, save for a few girls twirling at one end and a pair of boys – brothers, he assumed - zipping around the rink. They were shouting at each other, laughing and cursing and showing off. Bilbo smiled, a little sadly; he had missed out on such much, being an only child.

The boys zoomed past him, one of them cutting it a little close to Bilbo and calling out a quick apology. Bilbo laughed.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Bofur. I can tell you are itching to stretch your legs. I’ll be fine. I’ll hold onto the wall a bit until I work it all out.”

He heard the boys coming by once more and turned to watch them. Across the rink, a man with dark, long hair was staring at him. Bilbo felt his breath catch in his throat. He knew that Bofur was talking to him but he couldn’t quite hear him. The man across the rink continued to stare, looking just as empty-headed as Bilbo felt. They held each other’s gaze until one of the boy’s slammed into the wall in front of the man and interrupted him.

Bilbo swallowed and looked away. “I’m sorry Bofur, what was that? I was away with the fairies.’

Bofur smiled back, though it did not seem to reach his eyes. “It doesn’t matter, lad. I think I’ll go for a skate around the rink, like you said. I’ll take you to the wall first, mind. There you go. Wave at me if you’re in trouble and I’ll twirl my way over to rescue you.”

Bilbo laughed as Bofur demonstrated with a neat twirl before heading off.

Such a nice man, thought Bilbo sadly. He sighed. So very, very nice.


	3. Bofur

It had been difficult for Bofur to acknowledge that he was lonely. He felt that he shouldn’t be, considering the family that he had and the many people he surrounded himself with. But he was. It had crept under his skin, slowly taking root until he felt he couldn’t breathe from it. It had woken him in the early hours of the morning and had shuffled loudly in his brain until the sun rose.

He had looked in the mirror that morning, admiring the dark rings beneath his eyes, and thought to himself “What I need is someone to talk to, someone just for me, not family or work, just me and mine.”

Then he nodded at himself and went down to breakfast.

As he pushed his spoon through his cereal, his eye was caught by a newspaper article. The accompanying photograph showed a small man, smiling with such warmth that Bofur couldn’t look away. He was standing with a few other men in front of the local hall. Bofur frantically scanned the article, collecting enough information to know what he would do next. It was like a message from the skies above. Imagine, a newspaper article that offered a solution to all of Bofur’s problems and then some! He scoffed down the rest of his breakfast, grabbed his keys and hat and rushed out the door.

Meeting Bilbo had been easy. He was genuine in his offer to volunteer; the concept of the men’s shed interested him and he hoped to make a few good friends through it, as well as get his hands dirty again. Bilbo was just the cherry on top. He was exactly like his photograph depicted. Small but surprisingly stocky under the layer of twee scarves and jumpers. Cute fair curls, a bit of a snub nose and the warmest caramel eyes.

Bilbo had smiled at him and said “We’d love to have you here! The more, the merrier!” He had showed him around, given him a brief safety talk and had introduced him to a few of the other volunteers. When Bofur arrived home later that day he had carefully snipped around the edges of the newspaper article and had placed it on his fridge under a magnet that cheerfully announced the services of a local blacksmith.

It had been taken some time before he had realised that whilst he was no longer as lonely, he still felt something was missing. He spoke to a bloke at the shed about it, an older man with some smithing skill.

“What you’re missing laddie is love. One of those things you can’t live without.” Balin nodded sagely when he had finished speaking, gently patting Bofur on his shoulder.

“Love, you say?” Bofur thought for a moment. “Well, I can give that a try. Not a worry.”

Later that week he asked Bilbo on a date.

He was a little flustered and may have tripped over his words a bit but it didn’t seem to bother Bilbo. He just smiled and nodded and repeated his assurance that it all sounded wonderful. Bofur grinned back and felt a rush of warmth through him.

That night, he looked at the photo upon his fridge and smiled.

Their first date had been a tremendous success. Balin had suggested that Bofur take Bilbo somewhere neutral, somewhere they could talk and enjoy each other’s company without too much pressure. Bofur knew that Bilbo was a gardening fanatic so it made sense to take him to the Botanic Gardens. Bilbo had spent most of the afternoon sighing and humming in contentment. Their hands had brushed together at one point and Bofur held back the urge to slip his hand into his companion’s.

They shared hot tea and honeyed scones by the lake; Bilbo kept smiling.

The idea for their second date had been a little spontaneous. Bofur had stopped by his friend’s bookstore to collect his imported copy of a woodworker’s periodical that he ordered. Ori had asked him to move a heavy box of magazines whilst he was there. After doing so, Bofur took a peek at the magazine. On the cover were a pair of ice-skaters, Russian it seemed, poised like elegant herons on the ice.

“Now there’s a thought.”

“What’s that Bo? Oh, ice-skating. Goodness me, haven’t done that for a long time. I’d probably break both of my ankles if I tried now, if Dwalin ever let me.”

“Might take Bilbo ice-skating. He’d like that, I’m sure of it.”

“Hmm? Bilbo? Who is Bilbo? Wait, Bofur are you seeing someone?”

Bofur winked at Ori, leaving him with a quid tip and a smile.

Bilbo had seemed enthusiastic when asked about a second date. At the venue, his mood had changed a little. He seemed nervous.

“It’s been a while, Bofur. A long while.”

Bofur reassured him and Bilbo smiled grimly.

Bilbo looked ridiculous on the ice. Bofur tried not to laugh but it was so hard, what with Bilbo waving his arms around and his lips smacking together in indignation and his groaning at the cold and the slip. When he fell on his arse, Bofur bent over and laughed, deep in his belly.

"Come here then, you goose. I’ll hold you whilst you get your feet.”

Bilbo had started to grumble but soon warmed up with a small smile. Bofur chose not to think and wrapped an arm around the smaller man, hoping it wouldn’t be unwelcome. Bilbo smiled some more, and Bofur was lost.

He had known before he had met Bilbo that the fair man had a beautiful soul. He felt it radiating from the grainy newspaper photograph, he felt it when he had first met him and he had felt it in every moment since. Bilbo cared so much for the people around him, he gave so generously of himself...

 _How on earth did I convince this lad to step out with me?_ Bofur shook his head at the thought.

 “Shall we try again, then? You can hold onto my arm this time, if you like.”

Bofur offered his arm and to his relief Bilbo accepted. Together they moved slowly across the ice. Bofur watched as two boys raced each other around the rink, startling a group of girls who were twirling and prancing at one end. They shrieked and the boys laughed, showing off and grinning. When one came close to tumbling over Bilbo he shouted out a quick apology which Bilbo accepted with a chuckle. Bofur wanted very much at that moment to kiss him.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Bofur. I can tell you are itching to stretch your legs. I’ll be fine. I’ll hold onto the wall a bit until I work it all out.”

It was true that Bofur was aching to skate carefree around the rink just as the young boys were, but he wasn’t so keen as to leave the man beside him. The prospect of skating with Bilbo, however slowly, was much more enticing.

“Oh don’t be daft, lad. I’m too old for that. I’ll likely fall in a heap and embarrass myself in front of those lasses. Might even get myself into a bit of a rumble with those boys. They’ll see how speedy I am and they’ll challenge me to a race, I’m sure of it. They’ll thrash me, no doubt. You’d have to carry my battered body off of the ice, if you weren’t too embarrassed to do so. No, I’ll stay here with you if you don’t mind.”

He smiled, but Bilbo didn’t answer. He was gazing off across the rink at a dark haired man who was gazing back intently. Bofur felt his stomach drop. Bilbo’s mouth had fallen open slightly, and his eyes were wide and unblinking. The man across the rink looked as though he was tied to a track and a train was approaching. They looked at each other as though they had been searching and searching and at last, unexpectedly, had found each other.

There was nothing that Bofur could do about _that_.

It was only when one of the boys had slammed into the wall by the dark haired man that Bilbo came back to him. With a trembling voice he said, “I’m sorry Bofur, what was that? I was away with the fairies.’

Bofur forced a smile to his face. “It doesn’t matter, lad. I think I’ll go for a skate around the rink, like you said. I’ll take you to the wall first, mind. There you go. Wave at me if you’re in trouble and I’ll twirl my way over to rescue you.”

He knew Bilbo would laugh, because Bilbo was that sort of person. Goodness, kindness, all of that. He finished with a twirl and a wink before skating off. He felt the prickle of a hot tear and blinked it away.

“Come on Bo, you old fool. Better to have loved and all of that.”

He moved steadily around the rink, smiling at Bilbo each time that he passed him. He stopped at one point to give him a tip, laying a gentle hand on his chest to straighten the smaller one and stop him from toppling forward. Other than that, he kept his mind on the ice and skated.

He swallowed hard when he saw the dark haired man talking with Bilbo. Though they stood a good length apart, Bofur felt he was intruding on a moment of great intimacy. He couldn’t help but slide past them – it was a skating rink, after all – and though he tried he could not help but hear snippets of their conversation.

“I feel as though I've met you before.”

“Bilbo. Bilbo Baggins.”

“My nephews. Looking after them for their mother.”

“Yes, a while ago, in the newspaper.”

“I’m here with my friend, Bofur. He volunteers...”

“My cousin Balin volunteers there.”

“You’re welcome to visit – or volunteer, whatever you wish.”

"I would like to see you again."

Bofur skated harder before stopping hard against the wall. He took a moment to breathe deep and breathe angry before shaking free and smiling to himself.

“Better to have loved.”

He thanked the stars that they hadn’t made it to a third date and that he hadn’t quite lost all of his heart to the shorter man. He made his way back to Bilbo, who stood alone, staring towards the stands where the dark haired man had led the two young boys.

“Alright then Bilbo? You didn’t get too far. Need a hand?”

Bilbo turned slowly and didn’t look up. “Yes, I think I might. I don’t think I’m cut out for this ice-skating business, Bofur. Sorry.”

Bofur slid a gloved finger under Bilbo’s chin and lifted. He waited until he had caught the fair man’s gaze before speaking. “Hush now Bilbo, don’t you worry about it. We’ve had a nice time together and that’s enough for me. Let’s get our shoes back on and have a hot cuppa, hmm? That will sort you out.”

Bilbo sniffed and nodded, cheeks pinked by the subtext. “You’re the nicest man I know, Bofur. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a good friend.”

Bofur accepted Bilbo’s own subtext with a genuine smile. “Bollocks, lad. You’re just saying that because you’re hoping I’ll let you wear my hat one day. Well I won’t, I tell you! Not for all the gold in Erebor!”

Bilbo laughed once more,

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I read so many wonderful stories on this website and all I can offer in return is this drivel. Forgive me Bofur! I adore him so much and whilst I love reading him paired with Bilbo, the old Thilbo OTP trumps.
> 
> It gets in my head, I type it out, I upload it, I move on. I'm not pro enough to have a beta, so forgive the errors/babbling. 
> 
> I like to think that sometime after this Bofur meets someone else, someone like Nori and they have a lovely adventure where Bofur initially tries to convince Nori to mend his ways and Nori tries to get Bofur to live on the wild side for a while but soon they reach a happy medium where neither cares what the other is like so long as they are together.
> 
> Oh, and Nori is an EXCELLENT ice-skater.


End file.
